


A perfectly inappropriate gift

by MystMelody



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Divorced Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Porn With Plot, Professor Harry Potter, Sex Toys, Top Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 03:18:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystMelody/pseuds/MystMelody
Summary: When Professor Harry Potter appears to receive an entirely inappropriate end of year gift from seventh year Scorpius Malfoy, he understandably calls him immediately into detention.What he can’t understand though, is why Draco Malfoy has turned up in such a fury about Harry’s treatment of his son.Figuring out how this inappropriate gift came to be in Professor Potter’s office is one thing, but Draco is far more interested in how it could best be put to use.Note: this is about half porn, so if that’s not your thing, might be best to skip this.





	A perfectly inappropriate gift

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and do not make any financial gain from this work.

Harry leaned back in his chair and surveyed the small pile of gifts that had accumulated across his desk. It still amused him to receive these every year, but he’d long since given up trying to prevent it from happening.

Early into his teaching career at Hogwarts he’d tried to return the gifts, telling students it wasn’t appropriate, and even threatening detention for some of the more outlandish gifts. He actually had given out detention for the departing seventh year who thought he could get away with sending Harry a live, and very grumpy Hippogriff.

Judging from the shape and packaging of the boxes this year, the biggest threat seemed to be to his waistline. Given that he’d tediously had to accept Witch Weekly’s ridiculous Bachelor of the Year award for the last five years since his divorce however, perhaps scoffing as many chocolates as he could manage was in fact a brilliant plan.

Chortling to himself with his own idea, he made to grab the parcel on top, but instead sent the entire stack crashing to the floor with a concerning cracking sound. Bloody hell, Harry thought. 

Levitating the collection carefully back onto his desk, this time he decided to simply summon the gifts to him. That would have been the sensible course of action in the first place, and Harry said a silent word of thanks that he didn’t have any witnesses to his initial stupidity. He could hear Hermione’s laughter in his head even at the thought.

Thirty boxes of Honeydukes chocolates, three bottles of firewhiskey, two hip flasks with a best professor slogan and a few assorted surprises later, Harry was left with only one present to open. An unusual rectangular box, he was a little surprised to even see it there, given the thank you note indicating it as being from Scorpius Malfoy.

Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised. After all Scorpius and his own son Albus were very good friends, and Harry had to admit that Scorpius had always been pleasant when he’d been over to visit. Thankfully Harry hadn’t had to see too much of his father along the way, even if Hermione repeatedly told him that he was petty for holding on to school grudges.

As he peeled back the elegant wrapping paper, Harry had to admit that his curiosity was piqued. It certainly seemed to be something a little different than a standard box from Honeydukes. 

He dropped the box from sheer shock when he first saw what was inside. “What the fuck?!” Harry yelled, a mixture of disbelief and pain from where the box had struck his toe coursing through him.

“I must be hallucinating...” he muttered darkly, shaking his head as though to clear the vision. 

Slowly, he bent down to retrieve the box and it’s deeply disturbing contents. He didn’t care that Scorpius was days away from leaving Hogwarts forever, there was no way that he could let this slide. What kind of a sick joke was this? 

Conjuring a small slip of paper, he scrawled a note and sent it to the dungeons, informing Scorpius that he must report to his office the following afternoon to complete detention. Harry fully expected to give the brat a good piece of his mind as soon as he could. For now, he’d have to attempt to sleep in a much worse mood than he’d anticipated before opening his end of year gifts.

***

“I’m really sorry, Professor Potter! I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Offend me?! How could you possibly think that it was acceptable, Scorpius?”

“I’m sorry, I was just trying to get something nice, and well, I mean it was Dad’s idea, but he promised that it was a favourite of yours back in your school days!”

Harry choked on his own saliva and spluttered incoherently for several moments. “He said what?”

“That you used to love them back at school! Obviously he was wrong... I’m sorry, Professor, I’ll do the detention, just tell me what you want me to do.”

Harry had to force himself to take several deep breaths. Why the hell would Draco Malfoy have had any thoughts on Harry’s habits back when they were at school? He could believe that the absolute bastard would find this all very funny, although why he would drag his own son into it was beyond him really. He clearly hadn’t grown up in the slightest, regardless of what Hermione said. 

“It’s fine, Scorpius. Just... write some lines.”

“Yes, sir. What should I write?”

Bugger. Harry knew that was a stupid suggestion. He had a few that he usually relied on, but none of them were quite right for this situation.

“I must remember to choose gifts appropriately,” Harry responded after a moment, pleased with himself for the quick thinking. “Let’s say two hundred times. I should think that will be enough, and then we’ll forget this whole thing.”

“Yes, sir,” Scorpius said quietly, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill as he sat down.

For a few minutes there was silence except for the scratching of the quill as Scorpius wrote furiously. Harry was reminded of why he hated giving detentions, because it also meant that he was prevented from doing what he wanted. 

A swift knock on the door broke Harry from his reverie. The person didn’t wait for Harry to reply, throwing the door open with much more force than was strictly necessary.

“Potter!”

Harry looked into the face of an inexplicably irate Draco Malfoy, his wand clutched tight in his fist, but thankfully not pointing in Harry’s direction.

“Can I help you?”

“Can you tell me, please, why the fuck it is that you have my son doing detention today? And don’t tell me it’s because his end of year thank you gift wasn’t up to the standard that you’d expect like it says in this ridiculous little note! Surely even you aren’t that conceited?”

Harry suddenly felt rage begin to take over him as well. “I don’t bloody expect anything! I don’t care if students send anything or not! But I won’t be mocked in my own classroom, no I will not!”

“What are you on about? Tell me why it is that Scorpius is here with you when he should be making the most of his last few days here?!”

“You can’t be that thick, Malfoy. He told me himself that it was your idea. Wanted to humiliate me did you? Poke fun at my sexuality? Well congratulations, you’ve had your fun. I hope you got a bloody good laugh out of it.”

“Your what? Potter you’re not making any sense.”

“Am I not? I just don’t see why you had to involve your son in this endeavour of yours. You want to revert to being the tosser you were at Hogwarts then fine, but why would you involve your own son? Great example you’re setting there.”

Harry couldn’t understand why Malfoy was looking so bewildered, so he settled for just glaring at him. Scorpius to his credit just continued to write as though there had been no interruption.

“Let me get this straight,” Malfoy spoke after a moment, “you’re upset about the gift. But because you think it’s what - some dig at you?”

“Well obviously. I get it, have a laugh at the gay professor. Congratulations, you did. And while I can’t impose any consequence on you, I can on Scorpius at least for the next few days. Hence, he’s writing lines.”

Harry sat back in his chair, smiling slightly to himself that there was no way that Malfoy could refute that. He’d always loved scoring points over him; it was odd really how quickly the old rush of competitiveness came surging back between them.

“How is it anything to do with you being gay? Are you trying to say that gay people don’t eat treacle tart any more, Potter? I must have missed that on the agenda at the last big, gay reunion!”

Harry just looked at him for a minute, dumbfounded. “What?”

“Well I mean, last I checked, as a gay man myself I thought I could choose whether or not I liked certain foods. But you’re telling me now that supposedly gifting treacle tarts to a gay man is a bloody hate crime and I’m curious as to why!”

“What?”

“You keep saying that, Potter. What is it that’s confusing you?”

Harry’s brain was struggling to keep up. Since when was Malfoy even gay? “I mean, what are you talking about? What have treacle tarts got to do with anything?”

“Since you flipped out about Scorpius giving you some!”

“No I didn’t!”

“Well then why are we here?!” Malfoy shouted.

“Because of the dildo!” Harry bellowed back. 

The silence that followed was oppressive. All three of them seemed frozen for a moment, the thumping of their heartbeats the only indication that time had not actually stopped. 

“The what?” Scorpius asked quietly, finally putting down his quill for the first time.

“The - you know,” Harry said awkwardly, running his hand across the back of his neck.

“No, I don’t believe that we do know, Potter,” Malfoy replied, his voice ice cold.

Harry couldn’t believe that he was doing this, that he was about to take out and start waving about a bloody sex toy in the middle of his office in front of a student and Malfoy, but he supposed worse things had happened in his life.

“This,” Harry said, holding the toy out to Malfoy, “this is the delightful little present that your son got me. As I take it on your word, because ‘I used to enjoy them so much at Hogwarts’.”

“Is this meant to be funny, Potter?”

“No, not at all. It’s a completely inappropriate gift as I think I’ve said repeatedly, and it’s the reason why we’re here.”

“That is not what Scorpius gave you.”

“Really? Then why did it have a little thank you note from him attached?”

“Um, sir? I think there’s been a mistake. I swear, I just sent a treacle tart flavoured cake. I don’t know anything about - that,” Scorpius stuttered out.

Harry gulped. He had opened a cake just like the one Scorpius was describing and had already scoffed down a good half of it. But surely this must still just be part of an elaborate prank?

“So you’re claiming you didn’t send me this?” Harry asked, waving the ridiculously large toy above his head like some kind of madman.

“Stop that, Potter,” Malfoy hissed, “you’re being ridiculous. Put that away before you take someone’s eye out.”

Harry looked at the two Malfoy men sat in front of him, and for the first time felt his confidence waning. The elder looked irate and ready to explode at any moment, while Scorpius was looking confused and a little nervous.

After taking a moment to compose himself, he cleared his throat and asked, “Are you honestly saying that you had nothing to do with this?”

“I didn’t, Professor. I’m sorry, I don’t know how my note ended up on that, but I swear I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

Harry ran his hand along his neck again, noticing the first signs of a headache setting in. He didn’t want to admit that he might be wrong, because that would mean admitting that he’d called in a barely-of-age student to his office and brandished a dildo at him, which probably wasn’t what the school board would consider professional conduct. 

“Well, Potter? Are you satisfied now? Or do you intend to continue punishing my son for what was clearly a prank by some other student?”

Harry shook his head quickly. “No, um, I mean yes, I’m satisfied. You can go, Scorpius.”

Scorpius looked concernedly between his father and Harry for a moment, as if trying to figure out if he had really heard correctly. Clearly deciding that he may as well take his chances, he scooped his parchment and quill back into his bag, and headed straight for the door.

“Er, thank you, Professor. I’ll see you later. Are you coming, Dad?”

Harry looked at Malfoy, hoping that he would follow his son out of the room and they’d never have to speak about this again. Of course, he wouldn’t be so lucky.

“No, Scorpius, I think I’d like a little word with Professor Potter here first. I’ll meet you for dinner in the Great Hall later.”

Scorpius nodded and scurried off, and not for the first time Harry was left wishing that the invitation to families of departing students had never been extended. As he heard the door click closed behind Scorpius, he turned to face the elder Malfoy, bracing himself for the explosion. It never came.

“You know, Potter, I have no idea why you’d be so upset about receiving that anyway. It’s very good quality.”

“Wh-what?” Harry spluttered in reply.

“That item that you’re so terribly upset about receiving. Someone’s gone to some expense for you.”

“What - no, you’re just winding me up. Look, I’m sorry about all this with Scorpius, I’ll apologise to him later, but then could we just please forget that this happened?”

The replying smirk could be described as nothing short of evil, in Harry’s opinion.

“No, you know I don’t think we can, Professor. What on earth would the papers make of you discussing such things with your students?”

“I wasn’t discussing anything! It was a genuine misunderstanding! I’m still not sure I understand how this all happened, but you have to see how it looked from my point of view. I’m still not convinced you didn’t have something to do with it.”

Malfoy sighed dramatically, and threw his arms in the air. “You’ve barely spoken to me for twenty years, and yet you seem convinced that after all this time I’d still want to make fun of you like we’re teenagers again?”

“Fine, you’re all grown up! Now if we could return to not talking, that would be wonderful.”

“You know you’re being ridiculous about this, Potter. Even your ex-wife has been over to my house given how close our sons have become over the years.”

Harry huffed. He didn’t need the reminder. It was one of a number of things that he and Ginny had fought about over the years, before Harry had finally realised the real reason that he didn’t feel comfortable in the relationship.

“Look, Potter, if you’re not going to even use that, I could always take it off your hands. After all, I’m a single man, and such things do come in handy.”

Harry just stared at him. He once again thought he must be hallucinating.

“Well, what do you say, Potter?”

“No! Piss off, Malfoy. You’ve had your laugh, so just leave me alone.”

Malfoy just chuckled. “I don’t blame you to be honest. If I had one of those I’d be keeping it all to myself too.”

“That’s not what I meant! I’m not going to use it.”

“Why not? Unless all the many stories about your sexuality were in fact lies.”

Harry dropped his head into his hands and groaned. Trust Malfoy to still be able to get to him after so long out of his life. This was exactly why he’d been avoiding him despite any assurances that he’d changed. 

Much to Harry’s annoyance, Malfoy didn’t take the hint and just stop talking. He seemed determined to make this day as humiliating as possible for Harry, which he supposed was partly his own fault, but he still didn’t appreciate it.

“Oh no, Potter. Don’t tell me you’re one of those men. Can give it but not take it, huh?”

Harry stared at him, gawping ridiculously. Malfoy surely hadn’t just said that? He felt a flush creeping up his cheeks, because although he would never admit it to Malfoy, the man had made a fair observation. 

“That’s it, isn’t it Potter? Well, if you won’t be needing it, I may as well give it a good home. Can’t have it just lying about your office all day can we?”

“Now just you wait one second there, Malfoy. I didn’t say you could take it. What would you do with it anyway?”

Harry flushed when he realised what he’d just asked, and Malfoy’s raised eyebrow and salacious smile was making him nervous.

“Well, well, Potter. I had no idea that you’d be so curious about what I get up to. What would you like to know? How I’d carefully work myself open, using just enough lube to make sure that I could fit the tip of that in? Then I’d carefully insert it further and further until it was deep enough inside me to make my head spin...”

“Stop!” Harry cried. “Far out, Malfoy. Just... that’s a bloody image.”

Malfoy kept grinning at him, and inexplicably took a step towards him. “An image you like, Potter?”

Harry groaned. He wanted to deny it outright, his mouth was even forming the words, but his body was completely betraying him and instead of saying something sensible, he just let out a strangled grunting sound. It wasn’t bloody fair. He didn’t even like Malfoy, but he couldn’t deny that the man did have a certain attractiveness about him.

“You do like that don’t you? You know, we could resolve the whole question of who keeps that delightful toy in a different way.” Malfoy was pinning him with a questioning look, some of his bravado fading a little as he tried to gauge Harry’s response.

Harry gulped. His heart was racing, and other parts of his anatomy were having their own rather enthusiastic response.

“What- um, what are you proposing?” Harry choked out, his voice much more high-pitched than he ever recalled it being. 

“I think you know, Potter. Here we are, two single gay men, and there’s a gorgeous, well made dildo in front of us. Is it hard to imagine what we might do?”

Harry crossed his arms in front of himself protectively. Was he really considering this? He wasn’t sure that this wasn’t some kind of elaborate joke on Malfoy’s part, but something was telling him that the man in front of him was genuine. What Harry couldn’t figure out was why. 

“But why would you even want to?” Harry squeaked after a moment. “You hate me!”

Malfoy laughed, a bright, delightful sound that Harry would never have associated with him. “Oh, Potter, I don’t hate you. It’s been twenty years! I think we’ve moved on from our old school grudges, haven’t we?”

“There’s a difference between moving past school grudges and asking your former enemy to shove a dildo up your arse!”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “As eloquent as ever, Potter. Fine, I’ll admit that it would be something of a fantasy for me since seeing you splashed across that ridiculous magazine for the last few years.”

Harry just blinked. Malfoy had fantasised about him? Instead of saying something intelligent, all he could think to ask was, “what magazine?”

“What do you think, Potter? That Witch Weekly bachelor of the year spread with those, you know, photos.”

“Oh,” Harry replied dumbly. Maybe that hadn’t been such a terrible thing after all, despite his initial embarrassment. 

“So? Look I’m not going to throw myself at you, Potter. I’ll leave right now if you want me to. But the offer’s there. Shall I go?”

They stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity, but must have only been a few seconds. Harry was so conflicted. On the one hand his brain was telling him that this was ridiculous and he should be chasing Malfoy out of his office with a stinging hex for good measure.

Yet, what he found himself doing was locking the door, and telling Malfoy, “you should stay.”

Harry’s heart felt like it might explode out of his chest. Somehow, he and Malfoy were closing the distance towards each other, even though Harry felt like his legs had turned to jelly.

Malfoy reached his hand out and ran his hand down Harry’s cheek. “You’re sure, Potter? I don’t want you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with. But if you are sure, I’ll strip my trousers off this second and bend myself over that fine looking desk of yours.”

“Fuck, Malfoy. Do it. I must have gone mad, but fuck, I want to do this.”

“Excellent. I trust you know what you’re doing with that,” Malfoy added, gesturing to the toy that Harry was strangely still grasping in his hand. “You better not bloody hurt me.”

Harry swallowed heavily. He had done this before, but he also knew that he wasn’t particularly experienced with men yet and if they were going to do this, he did want to make it good for them both.

“I’ve done it before,” Harry answered after a moment, “but you still have to tell me if I’m hurting you. I’ve never done it with you.”

“Obviously,” Malfoy muttered, but his words lacked their usual venom due to him choosing that moment to rid himself of all his clothes with a quick flick of his wand. 

“Fuck,” Harry sighed, letting himself for the first time just admire Malfoy’s body openly, looking at his long lines and sharp angles, the pointy appearance from his youth having softened slightly with age. Harry’s body was certainly responding, and almost without thinking, he’d let a hand wander down to palm at his cock through his trousers.

“Well, Potter? You going to stand there looking or actually do something?”

Harry grinned. “I believe you were going to bend yourself over my desk. Wasn’t sure what you were expecting me to do until you’d done that to be honest, so I thought I’d just enjoy the view.”

“You’re still an arse, you know that, Potter?”

“Hmm, I think it was your arse we were focusing on for now.”

“You know you should try this yourself sometime. Don’t be so afraid to have something up there, Potter. It feels bloody amazing once you get into it.”

Malfoy did bend himself over the desk at that point and wiggled his arse at Harry just to emphasise his point. Harry had to take a moment to compose himself before he felt he could safely cast the spell to rid himself of his clothes without accidentally vanishing his own cock along with them. 

“Just waiting here, Potter,” Malfoy said cheekily, sighing dramatically for effect, and stretching out further across the polished wood of Harry’s desk.

“Alright, err, sorry,” Harry replied stupidly, his mind beginning to fog over as he locked his eyes on Malfoy’s bottom, his cock becoming painfully hard. He stepped closer towards Malfoy, the dildo still clasped tight in his hand.

“I’ll have to conjure lube,” he croaked. “I don’t keep any in here,” he added lamely. 

“Shocking. You mean you think it would be a bad look were one of your students to come across a partly used bottle of lube in the middle of a remedial Defence Against the Dark Arts session?”

“Fuck off, Malfoy. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave it lying around. Believe it or not, there aren’t that many opportunities for Professors to get lucky around here. You know, unless you’re keen on a trip to Azkaban.”

Malfoy snorted. “Fair point. Now come on,” he added breathily, “don’t keep me waiting.”

Finally, Harry conjured a small amount of lube into the palm of his hand, and began rubbing it gently around Malfoy’s hole. “Fuck,” he muttered, still a little unable to believe that this was really happening.

“Yessss, Potter,” Malfoy hissed. “Come on. Give me a finger.”

“Be patient,” Harry grumbled, “if you want this done properly you have to give it some time.”

Malfoy just mumbled incoherently, pushing the globes of his arse into Harry’s hands as much as he was able to without coming off the desk.

“Alright,” Harry muttered finally, “I’m just going to conjure a little more lube and then I’ll give you that finger you’ve been so keen for.”

“Yes, okay, just hurry up, Potter,” Malfoy whined.

Harry just chuckled lightly, completely unsurprised by Malfoy’s continuing impatience. He never had been good at waiting to get what he wanted in Harry’s experience. What was different on this occasion though, was that Harry was just as desperate to make sure that Malfoy did get what he wanted.

It was agonisingly slow at first as he gently pushed his finger inside Malfoy’s tight hole. Malfoy gasped slightly at the intrusion and so Harry waited, not wanting to rush things. He especially didn’t want Malfoy to change his mind and leave, because as surreal as this whole experience was, now that it was happening, Harry felt as if he’d never wanted anything so badly in his life.

“Ah, more, Potter, give me more, please,” Malfoy moaned.

“You’re ready for a second?”

“Fuck yes.”

Harry hastened to comply, working a second finger inside Malfoy’s body. It slid in more easily than the first, which Harry took as an indication that Malfoy was relaxing into what they were doing.

It took several more minutes of Harry carefully working Malfoy open, until Malfoy was finally writhing and panting against the desk, pushing himself back onto Harry’s fingers in an attempt to push him deeper inside.

“Potter, get that fucking toy inside me now,” he snapped.

“Right,” Harry heard himself saying, wondering when he’d started taking such care to follow commands issued by Draco Malfoy of all people. Probably when he’d bent over Harry’s desk and offered his arse to him really. That would’ve done it.

“I’ll add some lube to it,” Harry said stupidly, spelling some of the slick substance onto the head of the dildo. “Um, just tell me if it’s uncomfortable or anything.”

“Since when have you known me to be shy about speaking my mind? Get on with it will you.”

Harry shook his head. This was so ridiculous, but he didn’t think he’d ever been so turned on.

Pushing the tip of the toy into Malfoy felt like something out of a dream. The moans and grunts coming from Malfoy’s mouth did nothing to make it feel more real either, because before today Harry could never have imagined him making such filthy noises. Right now he was wondering just why he’d never thought of Malfoy in this way before. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s brilliant,” Malfoy said breathily.

“Oh yeah? Want me to push it in so deep that your head spins?”

Malfoy didn’t answer in words, but his responding groan and thrust backwards towards Harry made it pretty clear what he wanted. Harry smiled softly, and continued to push the toy further inside Malfoy’s body.

“Ah! Yes!” Malfoy shrieked suddenly, and Harry grinned, realising that he must have found that special spot inside of him. Keen to hear him cry out again, Harry pulled out slightly, before pushing the toy back inside Malfoy’s body more roughly than he had previously.

“Fuck!” Malfoy cried. “Do that again, Potter, you brilliant bastard.”

Harry didn’t disappoint, but he was quickly starting to feel that he’d like to get rid of the bloody toy and replace it with his own cock. Malfoy was driving him crazy and he was becoming desperate to get inside him.

“You could, you know,” Malfoy groaned.

“Huh?” Harry replied, his brain still not quite working properly.

“Come on, Potter. Don’t you want to try yourself?”

“You mean-”

“Yes, you fucking me. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Harry had lost any willpower to walk away from Malfoy and he didn’t even try to pretend that that wasn’t exactly what he wanted. 

“Yeah,” he eventually responded. 

“Well come on then, you better hurry up. I’m not gonna last much longer with you still pressing that into me.”

Carefully, Harry pulled out the dildo from Malfoy’s arse and threw it on the floor. There’d be time to clear it up later, but right now his attention was most definitely elsewhere.

Harry hurried to conjure more lube and cover himself with it before he finally got to breach Malfoy’s now open and pliant body. The feeling of that first slide in was incredible, better than any of the men he’d been with until now, because this was by far the most erotic experience of his life.

Harry had to force himself to go slowly, trying to make this last as long as possible, and terrified that if he went quickly that it would all be over in a second. Despite all the preparation and everything Harry had done to him already, Malfoy felt so incredibly tight around him. 

“You feel amazing,” Harry admitted, pushing down the flush of embarrassment at his words.

Malfoy let out a somewhat garbled laugh. “I’m honoured, Potter. You don’t feel so bad in there yourself.”

Harry felt inwardly thrilled at the praise. He was still half worried that Malfoy would turn around and tell him how shit he was at this. He never would have believed it before today, but he sincerely wanted Malfoy to enjoy this now.

It wasn’t long until Harry was thrusting into Malfoy in earnest, each slide of his cock into Malfoy's willing body bringing him closer to orgasm. Malfoy was scratching and scrabbling on Harry’s desk, with such filthy language spilling from his mouth in that posh drawl of his that Harry became somehow even more aroused. 

“I’m close,” Harry grit out.

“Touch me,” Malfoy commanded suddenly, “please Potter. Fuck; stroke me.”

Harry shuffled his feet backwards, pulling Malfoy’s hips up slightly so that he had a clear space to wrap his hand around Malfoy’s body and start tugging on his length. The change in angle felt somehow more intimate, and Harry realised with a jolt that he liked it.

“Yes, Potter, that’s it, I’m so close,” Malfoy babbled. 

Harry was relieved to hear that Malfoy was close to spilling over, because he knew that he couldn’t prevent his own orgasm now for more than a few moments. He gave a couple of urgent, powerful thrusts into Malfoy, and then came with a startled cry.

As he came down from his climax, he was aware that Malfoy still hadn’t gone over the edge himself, so he began to pump his fist up and down Malfoy’s cock more and more quickly. He could tell as Malfoy finally reached his own orgasm with his whole body tensing, and his breathing becoming shaky and uneven. 

In the moments after Malfoy had spilled over Harry’s hand and onto his desk, Harry suddenly became very aware that he was still inside Malfoy’s body, and perhaps this would no longer be welcome. Very gently, he pulled himself out, quickly casting a cleaning charm on himself as he saw Malfoy turn around and do the same.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Malfoy said, “Well, I enjoyed that.” 

Harry laughed, the tension broken. “Yeah, not one of your worst ideas, I’ll admit.”

Malfoy slumped back against the desk, his bum perching on top of what Harry sincerely hoped weren’t any last minute assignments that he needed to return to their owners. Harry stood looking at him, a grin spreading across his face quite of it’s own accord.

“What are you grinning at, Potter?”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh again, aware that this probably wasn’t the response that Malfoy would hope for after sex. Harry didn’t think he could pull off some kind of suave indifference though, so grinning like an excited crup would have to suffice.

“Don’t lose your mind now, Potter. It’ll somehow end up being my fault. My insanity-inducing arse will make headlines the world over.”

“You really never stop, do you Malfoy?” 

“I’m not the one acting like a teenager that just discovered the joys of sex. But hey, I’m flattered,” he added, pushing himself up from the desk and summoning his clothes. “You didn’t entirely disappoint me I must say.”

Harry snorted. “That sounds like high praise coming from you. Do you always flatter your partners like this?”

“Wouldn’t you love to know? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I better get dressed and go to meet my son for dinner. I don’t think he’d believe me even if I told him what we did, but nonetheless, best to avoid any awkward conversations.”

Suddenly Harry felt an uncomfortable swoop in his stomach. “You want to pretend this never happened then?”

Malfoy snapped his eyes up to meet Harry’s as he stepped into his trousers. “Well what were you imagining? As you were so keen to point out before, we’ve barely spoken for twenty years. This was fun, Potter, but I hardly think you’d want it shouted about in the press. And you know full well that it would be if any kind of word got out.”

“True,” Harry sighed. “But I did enjoy this. A lot, actually. And I don’t know, I was sort of thinking...” he trailed off, unsure if he really wanted to voice his true thoughts.

“What?” Malfoy asked.

“Well, I don’t know, I mean obviously we’re capable of getting along better now than we did at school.” Malfoy snorted, but waved for Harry to continue. “Maybe we could, um, start talking? You know, get to know each other better.”

Malfoy stared at him intently for a few moments and Harry felt a blush rising in his cheeks. Perhaps he’d completely missed the mark with what he was asking, and Malfoy had only wanted this to be a one time thing. Harry couldn’t deny that he’d be disappointed with that now, but he hadn’t thought to ask before, and Malfoy had only ever said that having sex with him was a fantasy, nothing more.

“Are you asking me out?” Malfoy asked finally. “If you’re wanting to get to know me like you say... that sounds an awful lot like dating.”

Harry gulped, and for the briefest of moments considered denying it. He reminded himself that he was supposed to be brave based on his house sorting, and more importantly that he’d been single for what felt like forever. “Yes. I’m asking you out.”

This time it was Malfoy who laughed, his face lit up with a sort of manic glee. Harry felt something inside him crumple at the reaction, and he turned away to start finally getting dressed himself. After a moment, he felt Malfoy’s hand gently touch him on the back.

“I accept,” Malfoy murmured. “Potter, I would very much enjoy going on a date with you. But I’m choosing the restaurant, because I don’t trust you not to take us to the Leaky or some other ghastly old pub.”

Harry shook his head, and turned to face Malfoy again. “Fine. Althoug I should point out that I have excellent taste in restaurants. There you go, that’s something you’ve learnt about me.”

They finished getting dressed in silence, and Malfoy made his way towards the door. He paused with his hand on the door handle, and turned to face Harry. “You know I still expect you to apologise to Scorpius. Even if there may have been certain, um, benefits, to our little discussion.”

“Of course,” Harry replied sincerely. “I really don’t understand how it happened. Or who even sent it, they can’t have included a note.”

“No card on the actual gift Scorpius sent then? They didn’t just get switched?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s possible there was one and it fell somewhere when I accidentally knocked everything on the floor though.”

Malfoy stared at him intensely. “You knocked everything on the floor,” he stated simply.

With a sudden rush of understanding, Harry felt himself turn red as he realised what had happened. “Um, yes? I didn’t think anything had got out of place though!”

He knew he sounded like a complete idiot, and he wouldn’t blame Malfoy for choosing now to point this out. How could he have ever forgotten that mess of gifts that he’d created? It wouldn’t be hard to believe that a card could come unstuck under such circumstances. 

“You know, I really do wonder sometimes just how you managed to save the world all those years ago, Potter. Now, I really better be going. I’ll send you an owl once I’ve found a suitable restaurant. It’s been a better afternoon than I anticipated.”

“If we’re going to be dating, you should probably call me Harry now, you know.”

“Hmm. I’ll consider it. We should probably see how the first date goes though. Wouldn’t want to rush into anything too soon.” He winked exaggeratedly for effect and Harry just laughed again.

“Fine. Enjoy your dinner, and I guess I’ll see you soon?”

Malfoy nodded and swept from the room, leaving Harry alone to his thoughts. It had all happened so quickly that he still worried this might be some elaborate dream he’d concocted. He pinched himself hard, and when it hurt him something wicked, he figured this must actually be reality.

Smiling, he checked his appearance before exiting the room and making his own way to the Great Hall for dinner. He had been wrong earlier he decided. Inviting families of departing students for the end of year was a brilliant idea.

***

“Hey, Dad,” Scorpius greeted warmly as Draco approached him at the Slytherin table. “Is everything okay with you and Professor Potter? He doesn’t still think it was me that sent that thing does he?”

Draco smiled at his son, taking the empty seat next to him. “Everything is fine, Scorpius, don’t worry. I think your Professor might even apologise to you. I made it clear that it was necessary that he do so.”

“Dad,” Scorpius whined, “you weren’t too rude were you? He’s Al’s father and I don’t want it to be awkward when I’m next round there.”

“I promise that I didn’t do or say anything that he took objection to,” Draco replied calmly. “He assures me that he did enjoy your actual gift, and he’ll pass on those sentiments to you when he gets the chance.”

Scorpius appeared to visibly relax next to him. “That’s great, Dad, thank you. I know it’s silly to worry about it, but I am glad that he actually liked that cake.”

“He did, Scorpius, he very much did. Perhaps he didn’t get as much pleasure from it as he did from my gift to him, but nonetheless, I think you can consider it a success.”

Scorpius was looking at him puzzled. “Your gift, Dad? You didn’t get him anything did you? He wasn’t your Professor.”

Draco smiled and nodded at his son, grateful for his occasional bouts of denseness. No, Potter - or Harry as he should now think of him - was most definitely not Draco’s Professor. 

That was fortunate really, or it would have been most improper of Draco to purchase that particular item for him. As it turned out though, he had been right that it was just the perfect little gift. He might never know just how he’d gotten so lucky to have a way into that office today, but getting lucky had certainly felt good. 

***


End file.
